No One Says I Love You With a Plant in the Room
by Carico Diethel
Summary: A fairly old fill for the meme. Miles discovers Phoenix doing artsy things and demands our favorite little lawyer to draw him in the nude. Just raping a couple good 'ol Capcom characters via mind power. Don't hate.
1. Chapter 1

Phoenix liked telling himself he still had it in him, but at this point rested his chin on crossed arms and lulled his eyes around the room. He didn't have any lights turned on, but rather let the sun seep in through the window behind him as he examined every possible nook of the small "lobby". His only company for the afternoon was a plant, seemingly misplaced. The other window in that dead, little office to the left. It didn't get much of any drop of sunshine, and it was, by recommendation, the time of day for the poor guy to catch some rays.

College was long gone, but he knew that was something he couldn't tell himself _forever_, could he? The man scratched lightly at the paper as his head slid down to where his cheek blended in with the cold table.

"I guess you'll have to do, Charley," with no response from the plant. "I didn't expect you to be so enthusiastic, but as long as you don't start withering on me, you'll do."

He sat up straight and flexed his arms. The attorney yawned through his teeth, making a slight whistle, and suddenly prodded over feeling like an _artist_ all over again. "This might not be so difficult," he sighed from the flex as he snaked his arms around the paper. Now, out of nowhere, everything felt so familiar. The man grinned with a short, breathy laugh, and his pencil took to the paper all on its own. "Prepare to be amazed, Charley, now hold still."

The first line was terrible.

Crude and rugged; he winced and immediately erased it. _And worse- a ghost line!_ "Fuckdammit," Phoenix knew he was in the old pack-ratted Visual Arts building as he flipped the sheet. Room VA102; he started over.

His contours were down in a minute; they looked more like a gesture, but that's how he'd always done it for the grade. His fingers felt relaxed now, as opposed to the ridiculously tense sensation he'd had, but that came only from lack of proper exercise. He'd lost that risky jitter of Carpal Tunnel since then.

The man was glued more or less to Charley, but didn't mind breaking the law of looking at the paper every once in a while, speaking he was sans teacher at the moment. Granted, it was uncomfortable to crane his neck over his shoulder for a given time. It didn't bother him at all in college and it wasn't bothering him too much as the lights of the blinds skipped over Charley. It had that dramatic, artistically unrealistic lighting that every man equipped with a B6 and a Gummi eraser finds absolutely orgasmic.

The door knob shifted and a silhouette was at the door, little to Phoenix's attention. It creaked open modestly as one rose-violet Demon Prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth, slid in from the side. He sighed rather loudly, grabbing the other man's once-very distant concentration, but hesitated from saying anything once he realized just what the defense attorney was up to- this was less than immediate. He closed the door behind him, leaving his hand on the knob with it's click.

"I didn't intend to interrupt you through paperwork, but--"

Now what happened here, was Phoenix shook from his position, like being snagged by the hair. His eyes caught Edgeworth with an unprofessional appeal that only gave the signal that he wasn't expecting anyone to come in at such a moment. But that was quick to change and easier to try hiding. A grin, he leaned back in his chair with unrealistic nonchalance. "Paperwork? Don't worry, Edgeworth. I'm only drawing."

Now the other man paused, glancing at the floor and back to his host. "Drawing..."

"I've really got nothing to do today." Phoenix scratched the back of his neck, turning his head towards the window with the same average grin on his face. He was never one as considered with having a "fair face," (especially in such attire), but he was, in some different sense, attractive. "What about you? You're usually not one to come out of the blue."

"You left these in court, Wright." A manila folder.

_Drats._

Sparked brows and a blank line for a mouth met at parallel in a flat frown, and the delivery man suddenly felt uncomfortable- only because he was bad with these sort of things. Uncomfortable, nevertheless.

"Mind if I look?"

"At the record??"

"No..." He bent his arm upward and pointed at the man in the chair. "Wright, your picture."

"Oh! Oh uh, sure, I guess." He leaned back in his chair (for whatever reason). And eyed the tall man as he almost looked to have speed-walked. Rushed, or something. Miles stepped behind Phoenix, and the attorney slouched again. "It's not all that good, though. I haven't gotten into the real big stuff."

A pause. Miles didn't say anything for a short time and Phoenix was almost unnerved enough to intervene, but eyed his guest prior to doing so and realized he had to stop himself. The guy was really _looking at it. _He might have gone blind, from all Phoenix knew; his eyes raced a bit, then suddenly stopped, and Miles Edgeworth honestly looked like he had sailed off into space.

"You're," Edgeworth looked towards Phoenix. "Miss Fey's not here at the moment?"_Maya_, he corrected himself.

"She's ummmm..." A wink then a blink and he concentrated on his own knees. "visiting her place for a little while, but I didn't really ask where."

"You're terrible at whatever babysitting job you've taken up here, Wright, but more importantly," he slid his hands up the desk. His index tapped rather diligently at the corner. "You're... anatomy is horrid."

"...It's a plant, Edgewo--"

"N-no, Wright." He pressed to lean on the desk. "You're getting ahead of yourself, trying to draw this. You need to start with the basics."

"Basics?" Now what could possibly be basic, if a houseplant isn't easy enough?"

"You'd be better off drawing from the human form-- for instance, myself."

And pause. They both heard the pencil finally drop, and there was dull fuzz in the front of both of their eyes, fairly.

"Draw you."

"Don't make me say it again."

"Because you in all of your frilly, pink glory are so much more basic than Charley?"

"Then how does the nude sound to you?" The prosecutor eyed him, his face segued from a flat glare to the hint of a snarly grin. "I insist Wright, and when you're drawing like that, it'd be only to your benefit."

Phoenix was sort of frozen in place-- his mouth hanging wide open and his eyes rolled in to look at his own brain. Eventually, out came a stutter as he slowly died.

"N-nude-d-d-d..."

"You're an art man, are you not?" Edgeworth stood up straight to circle the desk like the proposal didn't mean a thing. "This is what art men do."

The _art man_ pressed his eyes shut, raised his brows, and after Edgeworth really thought about what the hell sort of face he was making, he concluded that Phoenix was only stretching his face.

"I'm free of my own paperwork, you see, but I've yet to necessarily do the favor I came to grant you."

He waved the folder.

"But, that's for the trial--" He raised his hands by inches in some babied, pointless attempt to reach it.

"If you weren't as careless as to leave your only hope of making ends meet where anyone with two eyes could reach it," he patted the record on the back as he talked, blatantly mocking the attorney. "Then you would have at _least _made a copy, now wouldn't you?"

He crossed his arms, but he couldn't necessarily look as frustrated as he could have- the priss did have a point. "You're a real prick, do you know that?"

A first for the prosecution, he brushed his hair with his fingers in a victorious smirk. "I'll take that as a yes?"

"Fine- fine, sure. Sure." An apathetic sigh. "Sure. I'll draw you naked, but let me know when you're done undressing..."

"What, is it too much to watch someone undress?" His red top slid from his shoulders to his elbows. He let it sink on the couch.

"This coming from the prude Miles Edgeworth." He left the _cold, heartless, ruthless blackmailer_ with a fit as he turned his chair around.

"Hmph. You're the one missing out then." A humored huff left Miles from the nostrils as worked his ascot from around his collar..

"But a plant is more complex?" A point made by the defense.

"When you draw them like you do, it is." If Phoenix's hearing wasn't as bad as Edgeworth thought it was, he undid his belt but went to unbuttoning his shirt soon after. "You're not focusing on capturing it like you should-- it's standing still."

"And what? If anything, you'll move around."

"That's my plan."

"Yeah, a real prick, Edgeworth."


	2. Chapter 2

"Almost done."

"How's the posing going to work, anyway?" The chair turned back to face that side of the room. "Do you want to pose yourself or-"

He was left with a, _what's that color-- Mar's Grey_ tank top over red slacks, which looked rather good, but only in a way that simply wasn't what he saw in court. "We'll discuss that when I'm ready, Wright."

"Oh, right-- you're not umm..."

"It's funny how you turn around when I'm about to take of my slacks, I'll give you that," He raised his eyebrows with a broad smile.

"And a wife-beater."

"What the Hell is a wife beater?" He looked down, "I hope you don't mean the tank top."

"Tomato, 'to-mah-to'; Edgeworth--"

"Tomato, 'to-mah-to?'" The Grey hair on his head drifted as he did. "Those are the same word, whereas tank top and..." An unexplainable sigh. "Never mind. Turn around, now."

A laugh. "You're pretty bossy for someone who's technically asking me to do you a favor, here..." He shrugged, rotating again.

"So _you're_ doing _me_ the favor," a slightest tilt to the side followed eyebrows, quirking upward. "I'm helping you draw here-- you should have considered yourself lucky when I withheld my nausea-"

"I was only getting my hands moving again," a hidden smile graced his jaw. "It's been a good... three/four years or so since I stopped?"

"Stopped?" He asked.

"Oh, I don't think I ever told you, huh?" Wright crosses his arms over his head, his elbows poking out from each side of the chair from the silhouette. "I majored in art, not law."

"You were an art student."

"I was an art student."

The silent interval radiated. A sound of shuffling pants and the tonk of the buckle hitting the floor almost made Phoenix lean forward, which he did anyway, from daily tire. He rested his elbows on his knees as he looked up at the window. "Do you want me to fix the lighting?"

"Do you want to?"

"I think I should, but I'd be opening the blinds, so you in your birthday suit..."

"I don't mind. I'm _undraped_, Wright- so fix the blinds at your own discretion, but I insist you work on your diction." He slid off his shirt.

"Well excuse me, Princess." He stood and looked at the man on the sofa. Even through the blinds, he could see clearly that the man looked humiliated as he sat on the sofa, his legs closed together as he gripped the edge of the couch by the leather. He pulled the string an inch and applauded Miles in the back of his mind for _not_ shaving his legs, which, in a sense, surprised him. He reflected on his art teacher and how she always told him no one knows anyone until someone sees them naked, and realized Edgeworth was an obnoxious example of that philosophy. He gave the blinds another strong tug and direct sunlight finally exposed the interior.

The light revealed a lot to both parties. Phoenix had shaved that morning- it had that shine to it; Edgeworth had hair. Phoenix scanned over the other man's body while, for the lack of his own maturity, avoiding one given area. Or, at least, staring at it too long as to make Edgeworth even that much uncomfortable-- he'd be doing a lot of that once he actually got to work.

His body was immaculate, not a blemish, but not as awkwardly pale as Phoenix thought he would be. If he said he looked like a doll though, he'd beat himself only for sounding so trite. The prosecutor obviously worked out to some degree; maybe not the _oats and squats_ fanatic, but there was rather strong definition anywhere one cared to look. Miles did something and it simply worked. A real treat, but despite the strict posture, he had hunch lines that stood out like neon lights. _It must be from sitting around all day at his desk._ That in itself would have been sad to a guy like himself, but he was also quite the prestigious lawyer-- he had them too.

"I err-- I should get started."

"Taking your time, I'm sure." Edgeworth nodded; Phoenix finally sat down.

"So back to the posing question..." Wright hunched forward with pencil in hand. "What are we doing here?"

"Whatever the little Bohemian prefers, isn't that how it goes?" He concentrated on the desk.

"Well, we could start with some gestures." To that, the man on the sofa dipped his eyebrows to the point which Phoenix confirmed the man had no idea what he was referring to. "One minute sketches-- all shapes, lines... To get used to your body, at least."

"Sounds fair." He held an open fist to his mouth and nodded. Edgeworth looked upward at Phoenix, blinking twice. Pause, blinked again. "What do I do for that?"

Phoenix smiled, pointing out to himself that Miles looked like lost in this predicament. "You can just pose however you like, and move when I tell you to. I'll set up a timer on my cell phone that'll give me a minute," The lawyer looked over to the right corner of his desk near the corded telephone and grabbed the cellular near it. He thumbed it, sure, but whether or not he was well on his way to all the little extras Maya used whenever she messed with it, he wouldn't know. "If I can figure this thing out..."

"Don't tell me you can't find a simple timer on your cell phone, Wright." An amused little rich man leaned back on the leather couch. "I always thought of you to be one step ahead of me when it comes to these sort of things."

"If you really walk out to your car everyday and think _I'm_ the one ahead of _you_, then you're perception's really far off, but then again you do consider Charley to be too advanced for me too, huh..." Phoenix raised his eyes toward the prosecutor. "Either way, I'm not _that much_ of a technophile, I don't even take this thing out with me."

"Oh, you're one to prefer living on the edge, aren't you?"

A shrug. "Well, it makes me feel rugged." A tap on the desk, and he placed his phone down with a beep. "Okay, we're on."

"What?" Miles straightened.

"Don't move, Edgeworth, I'm drawing."

_Beep._

"No, don't lean back again." Phoenix blinked, disregarding his own hand whirring over the paper. For a man of revered precision, the attorney was surprised the "frilly prosecutor" was all for fumbling around like he'd never been told to stand on the dots before. "Edgeworth, stay."

The only notable sound in the room came from the pencil. Soft repeating scratches glazed the paper only to be interrupted by the two haphazard beeps that came and passed with, as Edgeworth imagined, smaller and smaller intervals.

"Alright, pose again." A minute- the lawyer's hand moves drastically but neither man actually knows what is on the paper and Edgeworth all but wondered as he crossed a knee and flexed to the side. "Pose."

"Already? That was five seconds."

"Five seconds is what I'm down to now."

"If that's the exercise..."

"You're terrible at this posing thing, if you don't mind me saying..." A beep,

"And what does that mean?"

"You- as the model..." Phoenix leaned back and pointed at him with a relaxed smirk. "Do something interesting."

"But what do you mean by 'interesting??'"

"Damn, you have to work on getting perky every once in a while."

"..."

"..."

"What the hell, Wright?"

He immediately scratched the back of his neck with a bite on his bottom lip. "Ummm... Do something 'quirky-', that's what I said."

"You said 'perky.'"

"Oh, you lie..." He tapped his pencil on the desk almost neurotically. "Perky pink Edgeworth... sounds like I'd be talking about a nipple."

"Good God." The artist could see his loving subjects nose twitch down and his neck stiffened. "You're mind's gone straight to the--"

"But yours aren't even pink," Phoenix smirked, hands moving to rest confidently on the arms of his chair. He kicked his left leg and turned to face the window. "They're just an ugly shade of _brown_."

A humorously satisfied exhale came from the lawyer as he heard a heel dig a line in carpet. "Your pardon, Wright?!" He turned in his chair; Edgeworth huffed as he slouched and crossed his arms in a blatantly defensive manner.

"You're supposed to say '_objection!_'"

"And you called me the prick."

Phoenix laughed with his mouth closed. "Perky and Prick," he nodded. "And _that bit_ sounds like the name of a bad porno."

"Because I'm sure you just wallow in that sort of material," Edgeworth tuned, but Phoenix could only tell by how odd it was that he was looking at him just fine at this point, a pinch of that snaky look of his returning to his face.

"Hey now," the attorney flexed his arms and straightened his back. "Ever heard of 'Earl Zach?'"

"Come again?"

"Forget it." He lifted his hands out in a shrug and shook his head in dismay, but found himself, on the other hand, relatively relieved. "I assumed you would at least know of _the_ Earl Zach."

"..." Edgeworth lifted himself with his hands and readjusted himself on the couch. He shifted again and pryed his eyes into the man opposite him. He perked his nose and his head tilted minimally- a movement Wright took no mind of. The fair-haired man started blinking- not erratically but surely more than he did before it was notable.

"Something wrong?"

Phoenix tilted his head side-to-side and leaned back. "I thought I was going to draw you."

"I thought so too, but you turned the conversation from... posing to--"

"Posing _with_ _others_?"

A nod from the prosecution, but the man's eyes rolled. The foreboding feel of a smile stretched across the the properly clothed man's face.

"Besides, you generally started that, being the 'perky' prosecutor and all-"

"You said 'perky!'"

"Quirky."

"...Quirky." Edgeworth sighed through his nose and waved his hand at the other man. "Regardless, Wright. Maybe it would be fine to let you start drawing."

"Oh, so you're giving me permission now?"

He received but a sharp glare from the prosecutor, but the message came dull. Simply, he'd known him before in t_he days of my youth_. He was accustomed to it only by some over-the-top, reawakened muscle memory as his face moved into a shy simper. This was what he was secretly used to, but had no recollection of it. The nine year-old man across from him could only respire in his eyes as followed by a slouch-- Miles Edgeworth knew it too.


	3. Chapter 3

"Back to the posing question?"

"Well, since we were both so workaday-ed in our discussion of pornographic material, maybe we could take this a little--"

"If I may, you're not asking me to delve in the precarious, are you?"

"Quirky, perky, _riskant_." An arm waved in circles over his head. "You're influencing my train of--"

"Where the Hell did you learn German?"

"I snagged it as a spare elective, a backup plan for piano. Classes filling. Yadda-yadda." A point in his direction. Figures, figures. "Und Sie?"

"Altenberg." Two flat-lined brows indicated the attorney really wanted to know what he meant. "I lived in Germany for a while."

"Well isn't that something." Phoenix's eyes hit the desk as he thumbed his chin. "Although, I'm not surprised you've been to Europe before, at least--"

"And what would _that_ mean, Wright?"

"Again, we've darted far from the problem at hand!" His face stretched like sun in his eyes. He aimed his pencil at Edgeworth and nodded too many times, his tongue loose at the corner of his mouth. "Strike a good one now!"

He shrugged his eyebrows and laid himself on the back of the furniture, his right arm draped over the top, his left in his lap. A stretch anywhere and Phoenix saw his body taught, and it was enough to say he'd been blessed with amazing subject matter. A person was a person with all their fats and issues when it came to any miscellaneous-but-willing model at say, a university. Generally, he was immature in that respect, as most high-end art pupils were and every one of them would admit to thus rather openly. Miles Edgeworth however, was an exception; Phoenix had known this man before in some former life, and now he wondered just how he had turned out the way he did even if the same could be asked about himself. And yet, he wasn't the kind to ruin the moment for himself, ever come a pencil in hand. Otherwise, he knew he was the kind to dwell in the abstract or poorly conceptual.

He shuffled for a new sheet of paper. A throb hit his head, but as he flattened the opposite side of whatever fax he picked up, the feeling just drifted away somewhere. Phoenix squinted at his figure's tiny increments of body language- liquidating twitches, fidgeting. The man was uncomfortable, wasn't he? Certainly, he's never been in this sort of situation before and likely only asked to do it off the fly. Just a hidden appreciation for the arts, maybe. The silent patron. _Maybe._ Regardless, his eyes were cemented- he'd feel the strain later.

It took a good deal of time for Phoenix to realize there was any genuine drawing underway, and only came to the conclusion when he heard scritches somewhere underneath him. It sounded pathetic in his mind for an instant, but again, his mind drifted back to everyone else with their iPods too loud and that Vitamin E-like smell of turpentine that no one was even using that day (a nauseating thought in and of itself). Luckily, artists are eerily Archaic in nature. Creatures of digression, _or so they like to say_. His attention flowed again to Miles Edgeworth.

Had this been a situation where men refrained from throwing their clothes around, it would have come off to Phoenix that the prosecutor was knee-deep in Apotheosis. His own sick, twisted amalgamator of reds and white doilies and his own mind was suddenly drunk. Either which way, the thought was uncharacteristically adorable, but suitable. Edgeworth was a refined piece of work, widdled and sanded to a nice reflection. In theory, the guy will keep this in his glove compartment to check on occasionally. Every once in a while. _Scritch_. Maybe never.

He had a lot less on the paper than he thought he should at this point. Did his mind pinball so much back then? Maybe for a million different reasons. Again, when conceptualizing. _Cut it out. Cut it out. Cut it out now and let's get to the arms._ Focus. Phoenix sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He counted to three and went to the biceps. He was the kind to start out ridiculously light and pull in the darks, but it took him a while to realize his dexterity wasn't there anymore. He found himself cheating often on top of it. Good. Job. If his teacher wasn't one for smacking the occasional peeper's head into his or her work, he wouldn't have felt bad at all, but a new problem arises. Edgeworth.

"Hey, no moving, Edgeworth."

"I'm sorry. I'm not one for ignoring an itch as I get it."

"You've been digging at your neck for... for three seconds now." Phoenix said. "Another masterpiece, ruined!"

"As if it made a dramatic difference." Miles' hand drifted back to its default position.

"The sun's moving. Constantly." He grinned with a nonchalantly forked brow. "_As if._."

"I'm all ready for you to continue. You just seemed to be _staring_, that's all."

He imitated his rival's trademark smirk and glanced again at the paper. "Just give me a heads up next time."

"Suits me."

_You can only look at a man's soul through his eyes._ A romantic ideal, and Phoenix believed it as a standard, but there are hands, too. He saw it from time to time, himself. Edgeworth's fingers looked so insensitive, but it could have been the lighting. Maybe that's it- no. They weren't so calloused as say... Gumshoe's, but they were flat at the end. He worked too much. He flipped through pages too much and drummedd against the desk too much and probably bit his nails. It was a weird observation, to say the least, and Wright really didn't know why it caught his attention that much, but he felt his hand pressing lighter and lighter. He squinted. This was the man's soul he was seeing here, and he'd been offered the chance to emulate such a thing, and that was perfectly fine.

It could be because his eyes were so much more relaxed, omitting any sort of tiredness they reeked with while in the prosecutor's natural habitat, that he was looking for anything to make him feel totally Edgeworth. His face was so eerily sincere, and maybe the pencil pusher wasn't looking at a stern giant from the start. It almost made him wonder what he was like around children. The thought didn't last long; he looked down again like the filthy man he was and felt satisfied enough to move to the rest of the arm. To the shoulder. To the collar.

He drew by angles. Everyone just pieces things together by shapes and circles, and that's what they teach. But doesn't that just look chunky? If you erase, it still looks weird. Or it can come out funny. Whatever, this was a comfort zone. He twisted his wrist occasionally, a habit he exhibited to no one on a daily basis.

Phoenix drew a deep breath when he finally took a hard look at the man's collarbone. His face had that human cleanliness. Again, he dare not call him a "doll," but it was really a grasping detail once he took note of it. He realized how different they typically were: he came to the conclusion that Edgeworth simply looked _younger_ than he usually did. Tired, and tiring to look at because of it, Miles was just evident of starting his life out a little too early, maybe.

Maybe.

"Hey, Edgeworth?"

Edgeworth shifted his eyes, but lacked the irritable aura as he did it. "Yes?"

"Have you ever noticed that you have really big ears?"

"_Hold it--_"

"Like, really big." He leaned back, holding his hands out over his head. "I mean, if they didn't stay flat against your head, they'd rival up to detective Gumshoe's or something."

"Now Gumshoe's ears aren't _that_ big, Wright." He turned his head with a dip in his eyebrows, comfortably befuddled. "Well, I'd figure--"

"Stop moving!"

Edgeworth _humphed_ back to his original stance. "You've lost your mind..."

"Fine by me," he hunched over his paper. "But if _someone_ gets offended by my perfect, beautiful, honest drawing, I don't want to deal with any snippy elephants--"

A shifted glare. Phoenix grinned into a snicker and shifted back to work.

His muse had interesting eyes, his own scooting away from Edgeworth's ears before his humor really died off somewhere. Harder to soul-search at that angle, but his overall facial structure, surrounding, gave in a lot to perception of his character. He already knew him well enough, a man with shallow exterior, but he didn't look exhausted today. No bags under his eyes, even when he figured they would have grown into permanent lining under his lids from his given work ethic.

Edgeworth didn't look so feminine as he did at a courtroom glance, and less in control of everything. He erased, went over his lids a little higher up and started on the cheek. The man almost looked like a normal human being, working at some retail job that he blatantly didn't like. He always had a habit of shading before his was finished when it came to this part of the face- his thrill of the portrait, but he refrained- he kept his eyes on Miles Edgeworth for the time being. He wandered if the man was happy with what he was, as compared to what he wanted to be when he grew up.

When he grew up, he was supposed to be the "best defense attorney there ever was, like my father." At least, that's what he always promised him for the few months he knew him in grade school.


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of folded paper and child-like jeers waved in his head like a slow surf.

"There's nobody else," he said, a bitter blink with an equally hopeful cringe stained his face. And this was the great and wonderful defense lawyer-kid Miles Edgeworth.

He stood to Phoenix's side, pressing two licks of paper against his own thighs. Everyone around them proceeded in chairs knocking against desks carelessly. Happy inaudible banter circled in some melodramatic moment between the two.

He sat himself down in the next desk, regardless.

"Okay, but I'm tired so you need to tell me the assignment."

"You're not Larry Butz," the butted end of _one of those fancy pencils_ planked between his eyes. "Sit up and let's draw each other."

"Why?"

A pouted grin. "At least I'm here for you, Wright." He nodded, his hair flanking the side of his face with a grace that only suits a child. "Otherwise, you would sleep here until tomorrow, and Larry wouldn't help you either, and the teacher would hate you a whole lot."

"Will you bring me a pillow?" His face was mangled in a tiring level of confusion, muddled by blinks.

"No! No-no! Wright, I'm going to wake you up." He sat up straight and began shuffling his hand around the paper.

"Sorry, sorry, Edge--"

"Shut up, I'm drawing you." He slid his lips across top and bottom with some riveting level of concentration that only came to Phoenix as a blur.

"...Oh." He lifted his arms and dropped them to his lap.

"Move again and I'll hit you real hard, Wright."

Time in the office came to another slow gap of pencil on paper and minimal conversation. Both were concentrating on their opponent; at least, Miles hoped Wright kept from adding some non-existent, idiotic muttonchops, while Phoenix thought Edgeworth was holding on from scratching his face.  
"Do you remember when we were kids?" He looked up again, twisting his wrists before he rested them on each side of the paper. "You can move your head, by the way."

"I do," He turned his head. "But of what in particular?"

"Nothing, really. I was just thinking."

Edgeworth calmly closed his eyes and reopened them with a complete smile."Of?"

"I can't just think of things as a whole, huh?"

"If you never saw a forest for it's trees, Wright, I'd be wearing dark green."

"You never skip a beat, do you?" Wright rested his head on a palm, "For a guy that's not really wearing _anything_, at the moment, I guess. I was thinking of when we drew each other last time." Edgeworth turned his head as he heard his friend say it, and it almost felt elevating.

"Really, Wright?" His eyelids fluttered. "I had expected you to be... too enervated to actually remember such a thing."

"You did, so why shouldn't I?" He wheezed. "Did you noticed you moved again, Edgeworth?"

"...But you said I could-"

"I know, but I just realized too late in the game that I didn't finish a part of your neck." .

Miles batted his eyes again.

"You ruined my pretty picture, Edgeworth."

He turned his head from the artist with a dash of a simper.

Perfectly catered with this action, the flicked hyphen-length lines left by the virtuoso finally left the neck completed. He dipped his head and looked up at his model again. Phoenix saw the fellow's face simply-put: gleaming, but he might have tried to hide it.

No, the great prosecutor Miles Edgeworth could be absolutely lauded by now. He should be. Should, being the emphasized word.

Both men were comfortably fidgety as one bewitched the paper and the other cast his own deviant spell over the naked eye. Whether each wondered what their opposite was thinking or not, the thoughts really didn't last long. That never meant the idea didn't come up often.

_He must think I'm draw horns on his head or something._ He let his head curtsy to the concept.

If it wasn't Wright drawing him, he'd have permission to think that way. He was the Demon Prosecutor- the man could be king, so he desired. But look, this man is suddenly like everyone else, only in this lighting. In this pose, lazy and casual in such lighting, dirty and so fine with it that for whatever reason, the attorney remembered Miles Edgeworth liked the Steel Samurai.

He was drawing something precious, all of a sudden, wasn't he?

Miles was precious now; to him? Not necessarily, maybe infatuated, but that's such a shallow word. No one is infatuated with precious things, they're attracted to them. Cats to birds. If it has blood inside it, it will have this terrible defilement kink. An interesting, if not humiliating fetish for anyone involved, but if this is what happens when a man of this caliber strips himself before a slave of the right side of his own brain, then so be it.

Or not. His shoulders contracted, and he shrugged off the concept like an Engrish spell.

But he likes a kids show, of all things.

Not even some terrible Canadian space one with lewd aliens- _thanks for the imprint, Larry_. It's something only worth watching after all of the good shows are over and its just too cold to go outside.

The only redeeming quality such a show has is the music, hence Phoenix's own ring tone. But Maya put that there. She likes the show, too. Maya's a cute kid, isn't she? Yeah, she is. Maya likes the Steel Samurai, and she's cute, but Miles, now, is a peculiar man in his own one man tournament.

"You'll still bring me pillows, right?"

"Bring what?" His head tilted, while Phoenix's rather sunk. Miles fairly stiffened. "Pillows..."

The prosecutor nodded, he turned his head fully to observe the room. "Assuming your income is right where I think it is, you might need some assistance in... taking care of yourself?"

"I'm surprised you think you cut everyone's pay, pal." Phoenix gripped his lips together to an angle. "I can afford my own furniture."

"That doesn't explain that measly little twig over there," to which he pointed. Phoenix fully rotated his head to follow his aim.

"Oh my God, did you just insult Charley?"

"Charley."

"Charley," His chest rose and flattened again sternly, an audible sinking into the desk told him he was a little harsh on that last line. "Edgeworth, that was a little uncalled for."

"My apologies." To the older man's dismay, Phoenix had a crooked grin in shaping.

Infatuated and attracted are the same thing, aren't they? Attraction just seems so defined and committed, while infatuated seems more magnetic. Magnetic, but infatuated is the more romantic word. Phoenix could be mixed in vocabulary... Anyone could, so isn't it fine to settle on saying this one measly human being was more than satisfied with their coexistence at the moment?

_Edgeworth has some damn nice legs._ Excluding cartoons and a mastered sense of line weight, it's a truth in itself that people draw lines so much darker when it comes to a subject (or part of) that isn't in their comfort zone. Then comes crude erasing and a series of ghost lines. As proof of his artistic maturity, Wright's drawing had a little of both- some nether regions were simply too complex.

Some things are just too simple.

"Hey, Edgeworth?"

Much to his surprise, the other man was, in fact, smiling. Whether the he was accustomed to this level of banter against him, one-on-one, or not seemed to evaporate. "Wright?"

"You just called Charley... 'measly,' didn't you?"

"Again; if it hurt him so much, I'm sorry I did, but I've never seen anything less exciting to the human eye, Wright!" He dipped his head and wormed his index finger, to which Phoenix nodded and he moved it to his ear, rubbing his temple. "What of it, necessarily?"

"Even yourself?"

The nude dropped his eyebrows. "You lost me, Wright."

"Now, if I'm not entirely mistaken here, and you may correct me if I am." Phoenix relieved his pencil and scaled his hands on his hips. He backed into his chair.

He paused, rolling his eyes in every which-direction. "Go on..."

"I thought you said Charley here was the complex one."

They passed another silent interval, and Phoenix, tragically, didn't get the aftershock he had anticipated. This was Edgeworth, though, a real spoilsport- he wasn't really expecting it.

"You're going to press on that again?" A pout would have been wishful thinking, but any sort of fluster proved satisfying when it came from the Grey-haired man.

"Your story," he palmed the desk with a loud smack. "Is full of holes, Miles Edgeworth!"

A blink. "Wright?"

"Yes?" Phoenix horsed.

"You...," the prosecutor shook his head." ...Do have the ability to keep courtroom ethics in the courtroom, don't you?"

"...Perhaps," he replied.

"Then do that again and I'll punch you in the throat."

To this, Wright cricked his lip. His eyes stayed averted to the ceiling as he amended to his own hair with a backwards swoop of the hand. "I'm just not feelin' it, Edgeworth."

"Feeling what, exactly?"

"You're lacking the dynamic attitude you need to sound even remotely threatening towards me. You're usually quite terrifying, I'm sure you know; it might just be today, but Charley's just screaming with charisma and excitement today. A passionate root sprouting green--"

"I should have you committed to a therapist, Wright." He gruffed backwards, so which Phoenix waved his hand, and Miles retained position. "Obnoxious twit."

"Well, which is more complex?"

"Why?"

"In case you haven't noticed, you're butt-naked," to which the Grey-haired man heaved his shoulders. "And that being said, you don't have to swing your clothes off the minute you find my court records or think I'm helpless against good ol' Charley here..."

"With all the personification I hear, I think your already are."

"What can I say," He nodded and started up on those hatched contour values that, for some reason, were the best part of any piece for any art apprentice. After thinking of it, he teetered and noticed Edgeworth had simply stopped slouching at this point. Maybe this was a good sign: he's relaxed? No, he could simply be attesting to his position as the model. _But he moves so damn much._

So he must be comfortable. "It's complexity's just happened to vex me."

"Again on how tedious the plant is..."

"Hey now, you started it."

"True enough, but why is it of any concern?"

"Unless you just wanted me to see your junk, I was at the conclusion that you were the Level 1 of drawing."

Edgeworth melted into a coy expression, muttering what could have been "junk," with a weighted nod of his head. "Wright, it's not everyday that someone's willing to pose _provozierend_ to help a lecher such as yourself."

"And it's not everyday someone demands me to draw him naked after doodling houseplants, Captain Fidget."

Exhale. He rested his elbows on his knees and pointed to the leaves in question. "Wright, I'm certain the only thing that makes Charley any easier than I am is the fact that he simply lies there whole time and--"

Phoenix snorted and hunched into the table.

Then, graced his fist over his mouth and gave no effort in hiding the humor he found in it. And what could Wright find so funny this time, he asked, knowing Larry's mindset already had to do with it.

"I'm writing down what you just said, okay?" He chuckled more than he needed to as he copied the quote down near the corner of his wonderful canvas.

"What are you-- you're supposed to sign in that corner!"

"...Oh?"

"I thought that was basic, Mr. Artist."

Phoenix scooted and started to write blindly. "Come to think of it." I lost points on my AP Portfolio for that sort of Sign-My-Name business, so I've kinda' abandoned that." He looked at the wall and drilled the pencil in at where he put a period. "Just Drawfag behavior, when it all comes down to it."

They both hit an intermission. "Please, I want you to sign it."

"What?"

"Sign it. Write your name on it for me." Edgeworth fled from the artist's homecoming look and turned to the wall, as the blue-eyed man angled his face and smiled meekly.

"I can do that."


	5. Chapter 5

Sometime ago, a twenty-two year-old man sat down and rummaged through his belongings. He was bright- ridiculously charismatic, but something hit him hard and and he felt a need to throw all of his things away and forget the term "elements and principles of design."

Phoenix didn't realize he had repressed it for so long until he eyed his signature. There, on the back of some fax he picked up, when a prosecutor had a hankering to strip in his office.

So Phoenix went through with that lawyer-thing after all... It took a boot to the head to keep from gladly drowning himself in linseed oil back then. Even now, he thinks about it from time to time, but now he's in enough that he can't dream of anything else.

"Edgeworth?"

Those trimmed strands of Grey hair bordered his face in a way that seemed vaguely familiar, and he looked like had known him for years straight. Miles Edgeworth's vision calmly investigated the room with a comforting smile.

Casual. Completely casual when he ignored peripheral vision and caught the artist. "Yes?"

"Why did you change your mind?"

"Change my mind on what?"

Phoenix spaced, shook his head, and started doodling. He didn't realize he was actually speaking to Edgeworth, but looking at his mouth led him to believe conversing was in order. "Never mind."

He smirked to the side. "Are you sure?"

"I'm down to doodling you now, so stop moving," he pointed the pencil at him again, pecking at every other word. Edgeworth faked a flinch in his face at "moving."

"I'm not going to wind up looking like Satan after this..."

"Smile for me a little bit more, and you shouldn't."

"Oh God," he said. "I'm not smiling, am I?"

"Don't fret. Sometimes people like drawing happy people, Edgeworth." Phoenix waved one finger by his ear, mocking isomeone/i's infamous bitchy gesture.

A playful scoff. Edgeworth craned his neck, his eyes still on Phoenix. "And who gave you permission to draw me being happy?"

"No one," Phoenix refused to look at Edgeworth, but presented a snarky grin. "That's why I'm drawing nipple tassels too."

"Wri--" Phoenix ducked his head closer to his paper, laughing under his breath. Egeworth's grimace shifted, even the joke wouldn't sink him out of the excellent mood. That's perhaps the only reason the fully clothed one of the two had the nerve to poke-- err... make fun of his exposure. "To hide my ugly brown nipples, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Awww, they're not that ugly." Phoenix said exhasparently, "If anything, they're just sorta cute, normal nipple-things."

"That came out horribly, Wright."

"Yeah, I know."

"Honestly, that's worse than 'thung.'"

"Thung?" Phoenix quirked. "What the Hell is a 'thung?'"

"Like 'tongue.'"

"Oh my God," a pseudo-stern look crept up on Phoenix. "Where did you hear that? Not some beat around here, I hope--"

"No, no. Someone in Germany."

"So it's Engrish." He thumbed his chin. "I guess that works, then."

"Yes, I guess that's the only excuse." Edgeworh seconded.

Phoenix pointed to the ceiling, intelligently. "I assume he was saying 'I vont to poot my thung in yorr moth--'" And to this, Edgeworth simply snorted, "Keep the accent to yourself, Count, and maybe I won't resort to leaving you ostracized."

"Vas I clohse?"

"The accent? Absolutely not--"

"I meant the line."

Pause. "Come again?"

"'I want to put my tongue in your mouth...'"

"No, not exactly--"

"Then what was it?" Edgeworth shook his head in withdrawal. Wright, however, gave in to the pout, that in the prosecutor's case, was always inevitable with unreasonable company. "You're no fun, Edgeworth."

"Am I supposed to be?"

"I don't know how to answer that so long as you're naked--"

"So this is fun for you?" Miles hicced a laugh when Phoenix faked a gagging motion. "Lie as you will, but you haven't kicked me out either, so..."

"So I can get my court record back."

"Odd, that didn't even cross my mind," he found the manila folder between the arm and the cushion of the sofa, rather snug where it was. "I'm not having any fun, Wright."

"What do you mean, 'I'm not having any fun,' when you get to prance around with your ass hanging out in my office."

"Who the Hell is prancing?!"

"You know what I mean," Phoenix slammed the desk. "It's a little weird to have a naked man in my office--"

"Then what about two?"

"What?" Shuffles from the sofa came with that grin simply stuck on at this point. "Take your clothes off. I'm not having any fun."

"What?" Edgeworth pointed at him when he asked that scared, feeble one-worded question..

"Take your clothes off."


	6. Chapter 6

_..._

_Now this is strange_.

"Edgeworth--?" His immediate answer came from the precious little record, mercilessly waved like a fan, over the prosecutor's collar. "Why would I do such a thing?" After than, the prosecutor answered only with the hint of a swoon in his voice.

"I'll tell you what he said to me."

"I don't need to know, you said I was close enough," Phoenix argued. "So close enough--"

"That's going to irritate you, Wright, and I know that."

He squinted. "...How so?"

"Because, although I might not know you as much as I'd like, I figure that would simply irritate you."

"So you'd wanna' get to know me, huh?"

'Hmm?"

"You said you don't know me enough, so..." The attorney fiddled his lips, kicked the chair backwards with his feet, and turned with another dig in the floor to meet the bookcase. "I'll introduce you to one of my many, many books."

"Are you telling me you can read, Wright?"

He fingered the shelf over every book, until he found one that suited his fancy. "Not really, it's one of Mia's, but it's in a language I understand."

"Ebonics?"

"What the Hell is--"

"Yo, yo... Gangsta, homeboiz, fo sho." Edgeworth scratched at his thigh, swerving his back against the arm of the chair, and spattered with little to no coherency, but it made Phoenix laugh anyway. "For living in LA, of all places, I thought you would have met at least a small slew of people who talk like that." He propped his feet on the other arm. "Like some of your clients, perhaps?"

Phoenix was thrown back with a snort. "What kind of business do you think I run here?"

"You tell me."

"I thought you'd know, speaking that you see all of the clients when you lose in court--"

"That's it, I'm killing your twig."

"Charley." Phoenix opened the book, turning pages by licked finger, and humming. Edgeworth fumbled in his seat and sighed heavily.

"What are you reading now?"

"Phoenix, the avid reader, is going through one of Mia's many flirty books."

"Ms. Fey's?"

"But of course, and you'd imagine her to have any of these, wouldn't you?" He skimmed the pages like a deck of cards two―three times. "If I keep looking, I'll find out what Mr. Amsterdam wanted to do with his tongue." He could have sworn he heard a correction somewhere based on what he said, but he ignored it.

They staggered on with the soft sound of paper, flicking, turning. A dull toss and the book hit somewhere under the window- to the wall. "That's it, I'm done." When his wonderful display asked him if he had any luck, he shook his head "no," sourly. Edgeworth smiled again at Phoenix's whining reply, and proposed a compromise.

Eventually, "You want to what?"

"Take off an article of clothing, and I'll give you a word."

"So you want to play a game with me?" Wright wriggled his eyes in his head, very much interested in the idea. He fondled his cuff, and when the prosecutor nodded, he tugged at it, excited in his old fashioned, melodramatic way. "You really want my clothes off, don't you--"

"Don't flatter yourself, Wright."

"But you're the one flattering me!" He crossed his arms and laid his chin over them, bearing teeth to show off his new excellent mood.

He didn't notice it so much before, but something hit him that the light pouring in from the window seemed to suck out Edgeworth's usual dark expression like a leech. It was an abnormal phenomenon, and that smile that simply didn't fit his face somehow brought the whole image together. He felt his hand drifting across the desk, but stopped- drawing this would prove a distraction. So that's how this started- Edgeworth's little human fidgets were maximized with Phoenix's attention, and so was the red tint leaking onto his face. He fingers dittied over the pencil.

"'I,'" is the first word.

"Oh, so we're to the first word, already?" Phoenix snapped back into present, and drooped his head to look at his wardrobe. He felt the twill of his suit against his thumb, but raised his brows to the man opposite from him. "I do what I must."

He took off his badge, smirking at Edgeworth's instant, irritated cough. The small pin left a metallic tink as it was presented on his desk.

"I suppose I'm letting that count, Wright." Black hair was rubbed back on his head and Wright nodded, enlightened more than he was apologetic. "I'll let the tie go, but that's already too tedious for my liking."

"Oh, so you just want me to rip it all off, huh?"

"With your sense of fashion, who doesn't?" Phoenix pinched his lip, he brought to fingers up in front of his face, slowly closing the gap between his thumb and index finger.

"I'm squishing your head, Edgeworth."

"And I'm waiting for you, Wright."

A pause. "...Like a little bug." He dropped his squishing fingers to the desk, pressing shoulders back and flexing his chest. He glanced at the intent little man on the couch and looked over his own shoulder. Phoenix brought his hand up again and over to the collar, and pushed it over the arm, and the jacket seemed to slide off on its own from there. He looked up again, seeing how Miles really looked when he was on the suitable side of his mind, although that idea was a rambunctious joke; he nodded and put the jacket on the desk. "Take that."

"What did I tell you about your courtroom behavior," Edgeworth berated, even holding a finger up and waving it to do so. "It ruins the mood."

"So, we're in a _mood_, now?" Phoenix aroused, but only got the second word in return. A sturdy "Want."

"I'm taking off my shoes, just to spite you. Socks separate." He untied the first. It kicked off under his desk with a soft thumping noise. Another thump. "There goes the other, so I want two words before I take off my tie."

"You're hesitant," Edgeworth skidded in and slid his feet, back and forth, across the floor. Phoenix caught himself distracted and saw his toes fuddling over the carpet, and that in itself was unexpectedly out of character, but it suited him. That Grey hair of his waved again as he turned his neck. "Aren't you, Wright?"

"Or you're just a little impatient here, but two words," he grinned.

"'To' and 'put.'" Edgeworth fussed. "And your tie, please?"

"The tie it is then," and it came out from around the collar with slow, fiddling fingers. "You know, if I do wind up all nudey and what-not, maybe you should draw me again."

"Again, Wright?"

"Think fast--"

"What-?!"

_Fwap_...

...

Phoenix frowned, his hands dangling down his sides as he quirked his upper lip and stared at the article of clothing. It was initially projected at Edgeworth, but landed, barely halfway, between the two men.

"Maybe I should have rolled it up in a ball." The target nodded, but shook his head, bemused.

"Let me get it."

The pink strip caught the light oddly, and by the orange hue that came from it, it was evident that the day was ending without their company. That, however, eventually degraded from any concern- the sofa was suddenly bare, with the prosecutor standing solemnly before it. He stepped forward, and just the aesthetics of this ungodly scene and situation made him look superhuman. He bent over and snagged the tie with his hand. Strolling over to the desk, he leaned with his wrists intertwined, resting his upper half on the desk as he knelt.

Phoenix paused, he attempted to lean forward in the same position, but hesitated. Leaning back suited him better, and he did so with a gracefully coy demeanor. Despite the facade, his face was pinker than usual, and he could only keep his attention on Edgeworth's hand, fingers wrapped with his own tie.

He slid his hair back with his hand, "Edgeworth?"

"I can't see a thing over this desk, no matter what you do. Your second shoe isn't off- did you think kicking the desk with only one bare foot would get you a free word?"

"Oh, I guess I'm busted, aren't I?"

"You'll just have to miss the shoe-gap halfway; your pants are coming off next, Wright."

"Sock gap, and I don't think that rule was established before we started this--"

"'I. Want. To. Put. My. Thung. In. Your. Mouth--"

"Hell no, that's what I said--"

"So, sue me," he picked himself up on the desk, leaned forward, and Wright was ultimately shut up and taken off-guard, as the wonderful model of the other side of the desk did just as he said. The chair squicked as the defense attorney, thrown from the planet, pushed back when the prosecutor's wide, supple mouth pressed against his comparably dry lips.


	7. Chapter 7

He sparked when he felt a warm, wet muscle press between his lips and stop at those clenched teeth of his. All being considered, it took three seconds too long before Phoenix even considered pushing him away. Even then, it was slow and it took this pursuer an inch of time to notice the younger man pressing his fingers over his shoulders.

Edgeworth flinched, his eyes darted to the desk- the drawing maybe, or nothing certain at all, because thos dark-eyed Demon Prosecutor had a dignified, sad, little smile. Wright couldn't read his expression at all, but his lack of an immediate reason shifted face into something a little more on the verge of _uncomfortable_ than anything _blithed_. He relaxed his shoulders, but Wright kept, at least, an infirm grip; he was fixed on the older man. For efficiency's sake, the lack of a dead-panned look from those blue eyes soothed Miles, and this proved to be the oddest thing about him growing tense under Phoenix's hold.

"I haven't been kissed in a long time, Edgeworth." Wright looked to the bookshelf, he gave a glance's worth of a tight grip and sunk his head back. He pressed his forehead into the naked chest in front of him, and he spoke, and he slid his hands down under Edgeworth's arms and supported him there, "I feel really, really hot right now."

His mindset elated when Phoenix pressed a soft kiss to his sternum.

An antsy jitter struck his ankles and his calves weakened until he felt his stomach press harder on the desk. The dressed of the two tightened his squeeze around the older man's upper torso, and pulled him by it for their second kiss. Edgeworth panted, his mouth forced apart by one hot breath and a twisted wet muscle. Phoenix twisted his neck and stopped when the web of the prosecutor's lips met his biting teeth. He let his tongue press in aimlessly, colliding with Edgeworths seemingly articulate other. A slow, prolonged gasp transpired as he retaliated Wright's intrusion with his own. He pushed Phoenix's head back by butting into his mouth deeper, the slick push and the saliva behind his bottom teeth did nothing but keep him inside the other man, tongues molesting each other in one closed unit of space.

Phoenix felt a tightening fit and his legs felt heavier. Edgeworth's hands raked up the artist's arms and cradled his jawline until the two parted again.

"Get on the desk."

The nude paused, bending his face, a quick kiss. "On the desk?" Phoenix scooted his jacket to the side with his elbow and the papers were discarded to the floor in similar fashion, where he gave Edgeworth an enticing, deepened exhibition.

Wright didn't speak before moving his mouth underneath the man's chin, harassing it with wild pecks and flicks and nibbles with his mouth as he rattled a sigh from Edgeworth and gave him a sharp tug in return, heaving him upward and closer. Here, where Miles hoisted himself up and settled on the desk, sitting on his knees. The attorney kissed the joint, eyes scaling the figure before him slowly. _Slowly_ being the key word.

There was nothing new to his opinion of the man's figure from earlier inspection, but the angle was different- Edgeworth was much less the model than he was simply a piece of work. He could see his hardened figure. He had slightly pinked, perked somewhat by room-temperature. and the small hairs cascading from his chest into the gradually darkened trail, a small, thick spritz of black hair curling above him. Phoenix put his hand on the man's inner thigh, up close.

Edgeworth flushed at the exposure, but didn't fumble when Phoenix snaked his other hand between the man's calves, motioning him to move. He brought his legs to hang over the side, and he leaned closer to the chair, the fat of his lip pressing into Phoenix between his eyes. He pushed into his face, but retreated. With a shuddering, loud "Goddammit!"

"Edgewor--" he was stilled when the man drew his leg up to see a stray reflection of gold from under the nude's thigh.

"It's your fucking pin."

"Aw shit, Edgeworth," Phoenix grimaced, embarrassed of the daunting little pin to reach his hand to it, tugging it. The prosecutor shook him up with a swat, pushing his hand away.

"Don't just yank it out- are you trying to kill me?!"

"What the Hell--"

"Infections, Wright..."

"Did you get your shots?" An astonished, "Well, yeah, but--"

"Then you're not gonna' fucking die." Phoenix twiddled the pin in his fingers as the victim;s expression sunk, and he lifted his leg to attentively take a look. "You didn't even feel me pull this out, did you, you baby?"

Edgeworth snooted at that last word. "If I die, I'll make sure you follow suit."

"Good luck with that." The younger man craned his neck, grinning sensually, kissing under Edgeworth's chin again, catching a breath. Edgeworth gave a mumbled, fussy "Don't you kiss me;" but as figured, Phoenix ignored it with a soft chuckled and moved up the man's jawline.

The hot breaths from Phoenix's mouth against his ear, his hair flaking back all but made him shake with each exhale, and he followed up with a sigh. His eyes darting around, yet Phoenix didn't even need to take notice of this, as his touch to Edgeworth was all but even and controlled.

"You've never done this before, have you?"

"It's not every day I'm bare on someone's desk, Wright, so yes." Phoenix whispered he was flattered, and Edgeworth's eyes rolled with a soft laugh in his ear from the younger man. "And my leg still hurts, I hope you know."

"You know, some people like pain, Edgeworth?"

"And what is it that _you_ like?" His bottom lip slid up over the upper, very catty.

"I like seeing prosecutors get stuck in by attorneys' badges," and he licked into the man's mouth, scratching out his option to argue, pressing his tongue firmly against everything in the foreign mouth, wrestling again with Mile's tongue. The prosecutor himself did not notice his sadistic little lawyer grace his hand around his naval, his fingers rubbing at his trail. Phoenix spider-ed his way down until he finally groped whatever was throbbing and hard down there. "After that, I just can't help myself." Edgeworth's breath skipped and his breath was exasperated.

"Ftch--" he melted under Phoenix's calloused fingers, whom was thumbing his sore head and tickling, teasing up the shaft of which he had fallen victim to. _God_, he flicked and skated over, dipping in at times to get those short, deep whimpers, so typically Edgeworth in style, that he was apparently looking for. "Wrii--" Edgeworth was suddenly breathing awkwardly into his mouth, and Wright was taking in every tuft of air that came from him, deepening the kiss when needed.

It was obviously going way too fast, the older man reasoned, but here he was, kicking his legs against desk drawers and towering over another male. He felt too good to feel bad about it. He was lifting his hips into those hands, the touch; his sensitive throbbing ache came dull as he placed his hand over Wright's. His gripped the mans wrist, Phoenix pausing briefly to look up at him, and blushed too; they gave drunken glances as Edgeworth moved his hand from under him. He landed his other hand on the nape of Phoenix's neck and leaned deeply to talk into his forehead. "If you're going to touch me, Wright, then actually touch me."

"Why do you act like we're going to have _sex_ or something, you sicko." Two eyes rolled upward could see the prosecutor's confident smirk, a kinky edge of uneasiness that had escaped the artist's mind since college. He was sneaky when it came to begging, apparently, and Phoenix complied under his grip with less delicate fondling. There was no wrapping of fingers, no curling- just a hard rubbing action, and Phoenix was satisfied with Edgeworth when he got a deeper, exhausting moan. He kept going. Phoenix's free hand brushed over a nipple- a hic came from Miles and his mouth was minutely lagging open. The rough tips of fingers twilled and encircled, and it kept his guard down with each tweak and twist and turn as the nub stiffened. A vital tickling feeling ensnared him, and he flexed into it willingly. He was jittery, but not at all surprised to feel Phoenix kiss him up to his chin, licking his bottom lip. Suddenly, Edgeworth was caught talking into Wright's mouth, in and out of the lock. "I wonder if I could just finish myself off somewhere--"

"Then why don't you?"

Phoenix sat straight, and despite any and all heat in the remark, the man's reaction was rather novel.

He pulled back with that color around his nose getting fuller. The way he looked down at Phoenix was almost concerning to the younger man- Edgeworth looked absolutely spotted. He blinked profusely, then looked down.

But that damn grin never left his face.

Never, until he closed his eyes. The incoming sweat that was already on him had a raw sheen to it, and Miles had a rather diplomatic look on his face to rebut it. "I'll just let you think about that," and he bent to Phoenix's chin, his hands pinching at his collar. "So I don't sound like Larry, anyway."

Phoenix nearly smirked to the side. "You're making me blush," he cooed, and lifted himself from the chair. He leaned forward. "Just take it off for me and I'll frisk ya a little more." His hand wrapped around Miles to take a shamelessly deliberate grab at his ass; the impending spasm from Edgeworth, into him, was satisfying enough. "Take that," he whispered, and was kicked in the leg because of it.

Whether Phoenix really took notice to just how fast Miles Edgeworth was _yanking_ his buttons through, or not, he kept his eyes downward as he was being attacked by those systematic, concentrated little kisses that pretty much reeked with impatient virginity.

"You've never done this before, have you?" A fitting question, but Edgeworth's fingers stopped as he pulled Phoenix, bare, against him by the shirt. The other man's body felt particularly firmer against his chest; the lightest layer of sweat between both of them gave it a disgusting, delightful little slip. He could feel each and every twitch, breath, and the unsteady heartbeat he drew from Miles- his erection ached down, thickened and stressed under his belt.

"I was hoping you could teach me a few things," he licked. "Even though I question your experience just the same." To which Phoenix pinched and the older man kicked him again. "Hey now, I even know who Earl Zach is and you don't, so--"

"So that automatically gives you the experience?" Phoenix nodded and the little partner of his moaned again, the exasperation of a yawn. "You wouldn't know, would you, Edgeworth?". He tilted his head down, out of Mile's reach, those eyes and that excited, shrude look on his face made sent a chill down his neck. "How do you want to do this?"

"By 'want to do this.' you mean--"

"_Who," A_ kiss,"Fucks _who_ Goddamn senseless, Edgeworth?" One more time to the side of his mouth. When the frilly prosecutor pouted about the shady imagery he had from the comment, Phoenix only huffed back a laugh. Edgeworth kissed his earlobe and he shuddered as his loose skin was lightly teethed and tongued and played around with.

"I haven't seen your dick at all, Wright," he spoke past his head. "And I thought I said that was coming out first, didn't I?"

"Hey now, you were the one unbuttoning my shirt--" A strong grab at his bulge made him teeter forward into Miles, who rubbed and groped at it as he caught Phoenix with his hand pushing against his stomach. Wright put his free hand on the rim of the desk.

"Don't make me ask again, Wright." Edgeworth whispered into the younger man's neck, the younger man fumbling like a wounded mutt to unbutton his own slacks. Soon, the only thing holding his pants up was Edgeworth's dirty hold. He smoothed over it, getting erratic _shh_-ing noises from the, otherwise, collected attorney. Once he seceded, the slacks dropped to the floor almost too quickly. Phoenix glanced at Edgeworth's pseudo-curious gaze at the leaked spot of precum on his briefs.

Wright took the lead here, only from earning a sharp, demanding glare. So he thumbed the sides of the material, alternatively looking at the man up on the table and over his heaving chest to his nether region. Turning up to finally keep the gaze at an impatient Edgeworth, time came to an utter slow, and he pushed down on the cloth. The nude lightly stroked himself on the desk, watching with an intimidating, hungry, _horny_ look on his face, making Phoenix almost stop to see. An offending toe digging into his thigh reactivated him. The underwear was eventually shuffled off.

Edgeworth heartily licked his lip as Phoenix's swell had sprung upward from it's enclosure. He couldn't help but stare at it for a little too long, resuscitated when Wright wriggled forward in play, and he shook his head with a sour blush. The artist gleamed with a light, airy laugh and pressed his lips into his subject's; they dragged out into another messy, spit-entangled kiss as they both started to curl fingers to stroke themselves.

Phoenix was the first to speak. "So, how are we going to do this, again? I feel like I've been asking you that the whole time you've been here."

"Well, how should we do it?"

"However you want, but it is your first time." He grunted with the sight of Edgeworth touching himself in front of him. "It's something to be careful about."

"Do we even have condoms?"

"Good question, but sadly, I don't think there would be any lying around here."

"I wouldn't figure Ms. Fey to participate in such--"

"Oh wait just a minute, you reminded me." Phoenix laughed, and bolted to the left to the next office over- Mia's. Edgeworth's face darkened in the comedic horror that came through the door, waving a box. He secretly hoped they were expired.

"These were hers, I saw them behind this old Family Law book."

"This better be a joke, Wright, because--" The prosecutor was immediately gagged by two fingers. "Suck on these for a minute,"

"Hagh-"

"Spit on them, do whatever." He tugged at Edgeworth's lip with his finger, and didn't yelp when he got two swift kicks to his calf.

"If you give me a bruise, I'm telling everyone about your ugly nipples--"

"If you tell a soul about this, Wright, I'll skin you alive."

"Not the sex, the drawing, in particular. Maya won't think anything of it, I draw naked people all the time."

"You?" Edgeworth paused, the look of foreign fingers in his mouth made Phoenix melt a little, fitting into another heaving breath from jerking himself off, but that's just how things work.

"Well, sure. Anytime someone sees me trying to draw Charley, they just _freak out_, and--" And he wasn't surprised when Miles bit him, either. "Fine, fine- I was joking!"

"So I assume you're on top?" It didn't even occur to him that the subject had suddenly changed, but it was really starting to tickle him how funny the older man talked with any sort of appendages in his mouth.

"Assume? I thought you would catch on sooner!"

"When would I do that?"

"Dude, I just stuck my fingers in your mouth--"

"Well, why would I think you'd do such a thing?" Silence, then Wright shrugged. "You- think about that for a minute."

"Oh..."

Edgeworth took Phoenix by the wrist and removed the two fingers from his mouth. "Regardless, I'll trust you with this." He patted the younger man's wrist in an almost motherly movement, his eyes swaying up to look at the artist, and he secretly wished he could stop the clock to draw that too.

A grin. "So you trust me, all of a sudden?"

"Shut up and fuck me, Wright."

"Look who's getting impatient!" Phoenix grinned with his teeth in the midst of placing his hands on his hips in every-day impulse.

"Well, no... But I--" _Can't get enough of me, Edgeworth?_ "You're as dumb as Butz."

"Only because I had no one to slap me on the wrist--"

"But the girls slapped you on the face, I'm sure."

"Oh, you hurt me." He tapped the desk, his other hand ran down the back of the man's thigh. "I'm quite the seducer, you know."

"Not with 'nipple-things,' you're not."

Edgeworth eyed him as his knees were picked up under Wright's hands and he was being rotated to the right, a good ninety-degrees. "So you caught on?" Phoenix was paused and scurried his eyes around as Edgeworth shuffled his hands onto the desk to regain his composure with a confused, cautious stare. "I'm just moving you so there's more room."

Miles asked ,"For?" Phoenix snapped a knee with his finger. "You to keep from falling off!" he finished, patting the man's thigh. "My desk is longer sideways, so you don't have to get a bad neck from your head dangling off the side."

"Give me some warning ahead of time next time you--"

"Treat you like a Goddamn princess?" Wright so lovingly dropped a leg haplessly to dig in the box with the same hand, pincers selecting one packet and biting it open. Those few thoughtless actions made Edgeworth shrug into his shoulders. It just looked so cool and reckless when the lawyer did it.

A normal thought of a man who covers his neck in a suit. "That, exactly."

"Can you slip this on for me?" The opened wrapper was handed over, and through a tedious mix of confusion and concentration between the two of them, the condom was tugged on with a horny sigh from Phoenix. He nodded in approval- Edgeworth swallowed his spit.

"So what do you do next? I'll admit, you're rather slow at this--"

"Yeah, it's a lot quicker in _pornography_, isn't it?" Wright smiled broadly with his eyes closed in an almost novel fashion.

"I told you I don't watch those sort of things--"

"I openly bet you read it, though."

Miles Edgeworth blushed and turned his head, and Phoenix gave him a slow, thumbed stroke to make up for it. He breathed in heavily, and muttered for him to just "Stick the damn thing in, Wright."

"Crazy-- you need preparation first!" He was swatted away from Edgeworth's swollen cock, so the man could tease himself.

"Now, Wright!!" A soft moan. "God, just do as I tell you!"

To be honest, he couldn't openly say how much he had wanted to do that even up to this point, but he obliged with a modest, flushed face.

He teased first, circling his thumb across the puckering hole- Edgeworth shivered and huffed under his touch, and since he couldn't really tell whether he was about to get a moan or a kick in the side of the head from the man, Phoenix stopped to place his tip at the entrance.

Miles only stared at him, Phoenix pressed in to see a small cringe from the prosecutor. He pushed in a little more, and shuddered at how wrapped around his dick the older man was. They both grunted as he slid, but Wright didn't go much further once Edgeworth stiffened his leg as Phoenix held it.

"Wright-- take it out!" _Edgeworth?_ "God damn you to Hell, be careful!"

"Okay-okay!" The whole image was hilarious more than it was emergent- to him, but he was quick to respond; any man so illy prepared was not afraid of smashing his foot into someone's face, he'd worn those shoes himself. He pulled out, and the man below him just whimpered. Phoenix chuckled under his breath. "Then maybe I should prepare you first, how does that sound?"

"Why, that sounds absolutely delightful," he replied. "You smug son of a bitch."

"I'll just take that as a cute pet name for now," and Edgeworth relaxed into an preemptively hidden smidgen of a smile when the artist had lowered on top of him to kiss him on the forehead; he just sunk in a little again and breathed on Wright's neck, staring at his Adam's apple.

"Do you want to stop," Phoenix lowered to meet eyes. "Or, if you're comfortable, I'll try again."

Miles, so romantically, just blew a drift of air into Phoenix faces, crossed his arms, and nodded. "Fuck up again, and I'll end you" Edgeworth smiled, tapping his finger.

"Yes, your highness." He sucked his own fingers this time, and drew them below Edgeworth's legs, tracing his lower figure playfully, before twiddling his fingers around the entrance. The other man squinted, so he pressed one in.

The muscle instinctively tightened as he encircled the inside, so to be totally respectful, he inserted a second, and pushed them through to the first digit. Edgeworth was smuggling his lip between his teeth, but he kept his eyes down between his legs. The whole situation was just that dirty, but it almost seemed like a normal cup of coffee-- it must be due to the constant bickering, but that's fine, isn't it? Sure, and when Phoenix asked and Miles said he was perfectly fine, Phoenix entered a third finger to pry and spread and massage with. He hit a spot where, inside, the figure under him flexed, and groaned.

"You're okay, right?"

"I--I am," he tch-ed. "Wright..." They both nodded and looked past each other's shoulders.

"It's been a long time since, but yeah..." he exhaled against Edgeworth's shoulder. "I'm A-Okay."

Edgeworth smiled, kissed Phoenix on the cheek- a simple deviation of an eight year-old, but he was quick with it.

"I think your stretched now."

"Took long enough." And Wright stood again, taking hold of his erection and fixating it at the hole.

They both drew anxious breaths as he slid in. Edgeworth sighed a drawn out _fuck_, but it was too out of anyone's mind-- Phoenix felt enthralled by how tight the man still was, after being absolutely played with, anyway. He slid in, a small way from the hilt to let Edgeworth adjust to the feeling-- a better feeling of something of that caliber inside of him.

"Take as long as you need to, then I'll start moving."

His return was a small push from Edgeworth, he swallowed an outburst and pressed back. _Edgeworth, you dirty girl--_ Miles moaned this time, and did so as Wright was slow in starting his move. Phoenix gasped openly as he pulled out, then in.

They didn't know how long it took for them to really take pace and form a rhythm, but they quickened well enough. Phoenix was moving in collaboration, Edgeworth was quaking underneath him, and the heat of their breaths (bad breath, at that), the sheen of the sweat across Edgeworth's face, his hair cling to the side of his face, and the blood rushing below both of them. It was raw, dirty, and so typical-- it almost felt like a paperback.

It was stirring, between the both of them- thrusting and raising hips back and balls smacking against each other while Phoenix held his legs apart. He stirred, the sensitive ring of muscle was simply being stretched at all angles and the head of Wright's heaping cock was retreating and easing, pressing that spot in him. He moaned and grunted in tune with the younger man.

The look on Edgeworth's face was absolutely whorish- his head back and his mouth attempting to close itself in vein. His every breath lost it's airy tone, and was very fleshed out. He back was arched, his chest heaving and raised up. One hand aimlessly up around his collar, the other under Phoenix's ribs in a fist. Not touching him, but it was there, and if that was his awkward way of connecting even further, then such was life.

"Touch yourself," Phoenix whispered to peck him multiple, misfired times against his jawline.

What was odd was that he did just that, as if Wright was only there to give him permission. One hand licked and crept down to his balls-- the other shifted to his nipple. The man played and smoothed with his finger tips, and Phoenix could feel the wafts of air that were circulating with Edgeworth's every lagging, hasty, lagging gasps.

Something odd churned and weighed down with a tightening little grip in his stomach, and Phoenix was the first to hunch forward again, gritting, and he moaned out something incoherently English- even if it was obviously stuttered from the moment.

Miles felt something warm pearl inside of him.

He shuddered as he attempted to look, but dropped his head back down to the hard surface under him. Phoenix took his free hand to take hold of Edgeworth's organ as he continued fucking him. He too was nearing some oddly-unfamiliar boiling point.

Whatever Edgeworth's mind was still spitting up, it didn't matter since things simply didn't mess up for the past forty-five minutes. That being said, he had no idea what was going on, it worked out for getting himself "fucked out of your mind, Edgey! You're into that kind of stuff, right?" That, however, ceased when something warm and wet spattered in loose droplets across the skin his chest; he came into Wright's fingers with a groggy, exhausted tremor in his mouth.

Each had what they would now call a good run, speaking no one was dead. He noticed Edgeworth didn't even attempt to lean up again, but rather, stayed on his back, breathing heavily. Phoenix, who looked rather tired himself, took out and decided he'd scan the room for something of an unknown nature.

"You wouldn't happen to have a few tissues, would you?" He traced a finger near Edgeworth's stomach. The older man craned his neck, his wrists up grabbing at nothing, but simply spectating the blatant mess on his abdomen.

"Sorry, I left my purse at home, Wright." He shook his head. "I feel dirty."

"It happens-- are you alright?" A sigh came in reply, "I am, but I think I should get a shower... or something like that." He grimaced at his stomach, propping up onto his elbows..

"Sure, it's in the back room, down the little hall right out this door. He look to the side, Edgeworth, out of whatever Herculean power he had left, stood up, and in deer-like precision, stumbled his way to the door.

"This is Ms. Fey's office."

A scoff. "Why does everyone believe I'd really have a shower in here?" He placed his hands on his hips, denoting the seriousness of the question just by strolling along completely naked.

He turned from opening the door. "I hate you." He slammed it shut.

"So you open sometime this week?" Miles, confused, asked "For?"

"Well, you have to eat dinner _sometime_ Edgeworth."

"And you need to make money for such outings, Wright."

"And that's why people assume I just live in my office." Phoenix goggled, and apparently, he found a box of tissue from under the desk. Miles only saw the spiked protrusion from the top, and grinned, humored. "But, in case you've forgotten, I've actually one a case or two, so I have enough money to indulge. Y'know, with that Powers guy and all. I heard he made a lot of money..."

"I didn't consider." He crossed his arms, perhaps actually impressed by the attorney and his not-so disappointing financial situation, even if it was absolutely nothing like his.

Even if Phoenix offered him a meal at Lunch Land. He was simply scratching his neck, but it was enough to get the other man to say yes. "So Tomorrow at lunch? Or dinner-- we can light up a few candles here in the office."

"Isn't that a little too sensual for take-out?"

"Then that scratches out the flower petals in the bath--"

"You just said there wasn't a shower in here!" That's when Phoenix told him he was just too damn smart, it hurt. "I don't know why I even speak to you."

"Because I'm wonderful, right?"

"...I'll have to think on that one." And graced along to Wright, snagging a slip of tissue from the box, wiping his own stomach clean and glared when the younger man made a face of amusement. "You have yet to show me that drawing, by the way."

"Oh yeah, that's how this all started, huh?" He thumbed his chin, eying the desk. "I bet it's on the floor down there. Just get dressed while I find it. We've adapted too well to just walking around all nudey and stuff." Phoenix went down on his knees, clawing his jacket over to slip it on, not even bothering to button his shirt- an act of nonchalance to Edgeworth, who just watched get on all fours to pick up two-three sheets or so. As this little process ensued, he must have shrugged it off and dressed himself. Edgeworth was up to buttoning his vest by the time Phoenix finished his search and lifted himself up with aid from his furniture.

He handed Miles the short stack, the older man smiled.

It was the words that came from his mouth, after the whole encounter with Miles Edgeworth, that threw him off and taught him something new about the prosecutor, although he'd never be able to word it himself.

"Thank you, Wright."

The graphite had smudged a little, but anyone could blame that on the pencil. Still bits and touches left to do, but there's also nothing wrong with letting it go before he could call it finished. A sketch is a sketch: big messy lines that are great for passing the time. Besides, it was already signed.

If only he could sneak a photo of him smiling like that, calm, but not null of expression. Edgeworth said nothing, so he assumed (for his own benefit of the doubt) the expert was satisfied.

"Draw me next time, okay?"

Edgeworth paused. "Here? Or..."

"Your place next time?"

"Now that's inviting yourself, Wright--"

"What the Hell?" Wright gagged on air, his eyes rolled. "You waltzed in here just a short while ago!"

"Let me leave my records in court, then we'll talk." He opened the door, turning his head then stammering back around- his jabot was already around his neck, _don't spin a disc, Edgeworth_.

"Hey, Edgeworth?" Phoenix stepped back, the once again _frilly prosecutor_ turned with the doorknob in his grasp. He was leaning in, his face much lighter than it usually looked, and the guarantee that there was more of this to see was enlightening to the attorney. "Wright?"

"Can I bring Charley?" Edgeworth just stared at him, his brows had sunk and his lip curled.  
An indescribable shout erupted from the other end of the impulsively slammed door.


End file.
